Toy Lullaby
by dolcegrazia
Summary: Her son was born prematurely and every day since has been a struggle for both the infant and the mother. Brooke-centric/Brulian.


**Author's Note- **I hold this one-shot very near and dear to my heart. Firstly, it represents the longest one-shot (or chapter!) I've ever written and that's a feat if you ask my friends. It also tells the tale that too many families face, including my dear next-door neighbors. Please read and review and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer- I **do**, in fact, own both the story title and the lyric at the bottom. Please do not even entertain the idea of using either of them.

I dedicate this story to Alyssa Jane- the beautiful miracle who just turned two and who amazes me every time I see her and her bright smile.

--xx--

_This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be here yet. We shouldn't both be dying_. The steady beeping and the hum of fluorescent lighting always helped Brooke Davis-Baker to think. This thinking, however, is not always a good thing. The room is mostly quiet which is also not always a good thing. There are eight babies in this expansive room. Each infant lies in an incubator, most of them with tubes in their noses for breathing and electrodes placed on various parts of their chests to monitor heart functioning. There were nine babies yesterday.

The incubator Brooke is staring at lies in one corner of the room. She's taken up residence in the small chair right next to where her son lies. His chest rises slowly and painfully, and Brooke cannot take her eyes off of his small body. His skin tone has taken on a more peach color in the past few weeks. His veins no longer frightfully poke through his skin. When she puts her arm through the hole in the box, he can grab her pointer finger and grip it as tightly as he can. She sobs whenever this happens. Brooke knows he's getting stronger, but she can't shake the fear that has been haunting her for months. The fear that he might not make it after all.

Liam Michael Baker was born on August 15th. It was a Saturday morning, close to 1AM. Brooke had been rushed to the hospital earlier in the night after collapsing in her home following an intense bout of vomiting. The doctors quickly diagnosed it as eclampsia, a severe condition featuring seizures, nausea, and vision disturbances that occurs in pregnant woman. Brooke was barely thirty weeks along. Julian, her husband of just a year stood by her side as she was rushed into an operating room and an emergency cesarean section was performed to save both Brooke and her unborn son. No time was wasted and within 55 minutes of getting to the hospital, a child was born. Whisked quickly away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, neither Brooke nor Julian had a chance to see what their son looked like or find out how he was doing. Soon they learned that he weighed just 2 pounds, 12 ounces. His lungs were only partially developed and his skin color was somewhere between blue, purple and gray. Liam survived that first night and every day since has been a battle.

Today is November 10th. Liam's weight is now 6 pounds, 3 ounces. The doctors predict he may be able to go home by Thanksgiving.

Brooke has pleaded every day since August 15th for answers or for signs. Liam has steadily been getting better- gaining weight, breathing evenly, responding well to stimuli- but Brooke is still afraid. She's become so accustomed to bad news; she doesn't know what to do when Liam is doing well.

The predominant emotion in Brooke's life since that fateful night has not been joy, it's been guilt. Is she being punished for something? For the way she acted in high school? For not paying close enough attention to the original diagnosis of pre-eclampsia? Has she been taking everything for granted? Every day, it's like a tidal force wave of emotions. Like a hurricane is brewing inside of her chest.

Over these past several months, Brooke's moods have shifted almost as violently as Liam's health has. The better he's doing, the worse she feels. Every day is a new journey, a new obstacle for both mother and son to overcome. Liam is beginning to truly blossom and Brooke needs to learn how to enjoy her child for what he is- a beautiful miracle.

Her friends visit as often as they can. Haley and Nathan take turns sitting with the mother several times a week. Sam, the teenager she began fostering almost two years ago, comes by almost every day after school. Her husband Julian is there every day.

"Brooke?" Julian says quietly as he enters the room, his voice a steady whisper as to not interrupt his son's sleep and to not stun his wife. He softly pulls a chair over next to her and sits down. He puts his hand on her thigh and she turns to face him. A small smile escapes her lips, much to both of their surprise.

"Hi", Brooke says. Her volume matches that of her husband's and she puts her hand on top of his. "Did you just get here?"

"I've been watching from the window for a few minutes. It looked like you were going to fall asleep, so I didn't want to disturb you."

"Thanks…"

"Has a doctor come by yet?" Julian asks. His attention turns to his son in the incubator, watching the infant's chest rise and fall.

"Yeah, about an hour ago. Everything is still stable. His breathing is still steady and his weight is good. Everything looks good", Brooke replies. She runs her fingers over Julian's hand, a nervous habit she has developed since Liam's birth. He puts his other hand over hers to steady her. This is a routine that's played out almost every night.

"Then why are you still so scared, Brooke? He's doing so well. They say he's going to be fine."

"Yeah, I know." Tears begin to make their way down the woman's cheeks and her voice takes on its low pitch which always happens when she cries or when she's upset. "I just can't see Liam now without seeing the Liam from a few months ago. I can't help thinking that the minute we take him home, he'll get sick again especially since this was all my fault in the first place."

This is the first time Brooke has vocalized the word "fault" in relation to herself. All of these fears, all of these insecurities have been locked inside of her for so long and her chest hurts when she keeps it all in.

Julian leans over and takes Brooke's body into his arms. She's stiff, he can tell easily but he rubs her back slowly and she begins to relax. "This is no one's fault, Brooke. Things like this just happen…"

"But why did it happen to us?" Brooke asks. The words are soft and directed mostly at Julian's shirt, but he still hears her clearly.

"I don't know", he says. "I don't think anyone ever knows these things. But he's going to be okay. Everyone says he's going to be okay. Our son is beautiful and strong."

"_Isn't it a little too early to be looking at name books, Brooke?" Julian asks his wife as they lay in bed._

"_Honey, I'm almost five months pregnant. I don't think it's too early at all", she says as she skims through the pages of _Beyond Jennifer and Jason. "_What do you think?" she says, directing the question to her barely distended belly._

_Julian chuckles at his wife and leans over to rest his hand on his wife's stomach. "What do you want to name him, babe?"_

"_Him?_ _Why are you so sure it's a boy?"_

"_I think you would do wonderfully with a son. He would be our little boy…"_

"He really is, isn't he?" Brooke says as she takes Julian's hand in hers and they look toward their son. "The doctor said that he could come out of the incubator for a little bit today. He said I just needed to call a nurse in."

Julian's eyes turn toward Brooke's and he grins that famous grin, "Then what are you waiting for, Brooke? We haven't held him in a week."

"I guess I was waiting for you", the woman replies quietly, pulling her hand out of Julian's grasp then playing with the zipper of her jacket. She looks down for a beat and bites at her bottom lip.

"Brooke…babe, look at me." Everything is quiet in the room, save for a steady beeping, as Julian lifts his wife's chin and looks kindly into her deep green eyes.

"I'm sorry", she says finally as tears well in her eyes, salty and full of pain. "I'm sorry that Liam's so sick. I'm sorry that I'm still so pessimistic. I'm so sorry that I can't even think straight." Brooke sighs as she finishes, moving her attention from Liam's incubator to Julian's eyes. Brooke can see that Liam is beginning to wake up. She puts her attention back to him, standing up out of her chair and walking towards her son.

Julian follows right behind her and puts his arms around her small waist. He rests his chin on her shoulder and kisses her neck softly. "I know these past few months have been terrifying, but things are getting better. You have to trust in that, okay?"

Brooke slowly nods her head, wiping a stray tear away with the back of her hand. "Okay", she says, her voice quiet and raspy.

"All you have to do is whistle. You do know how to whistle, don't you?" Julian smirks as he quotes _To Have and Have Not_, one of the pair's favorite films- the film they watched on their fourth date, huddled on the couch in Brooke's home, a fire going and a bottle of red wine half-finished on the coffee table. It feels like half a century since that night, so much as happened since then.

In spite of herself, Brooke laughs at the reference. Whenever either of them was feeling down, they'd reassure each other that all they had to do was whistle and help would come.

Hearing his mother's soft laughter, tiny Liam opens his eyes gently, adjusting to the fluorescent lighting and then resting on his parents above him.

"Can I get the nurse now?" the husband asks.

"Please…" his wife replies.

--xx--

"_Brooke, what is this?"_

"_Just dinner, babe._ _What else would it be?"_

"_This…." Julian says as he runs his hands over the silk tablecloth, the wedding china, the vase of flowers in the center of the table, "is not just dinner."_

_It's been only a few months since Brooke and Julian's wedding. They're living in Brooke's bay-front home in Tree Hill and life couldn't be sweeter._

"_Just sit down", Brooke says as she puts a trivet on the table and sets a pan of lasagna on top of it. _

"_Are you going to sit down, too?"_

"_In a minute."_

_Brooke grabs a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling cider from the refrigerator and walks back to the dining area. She sits down across from Julian and smiles._

"_Hi", she says sweetly._

_Julian grins back, his interest piqued. Brooke did not normally make fancy dinners for the couple. Hell, Brooke rarely cooked. "Hello", he replies._

"_How was work?" Brooke asks. She knows that Julian is waiting for some information, some inkling as to why she's made such a fuss over tonight's dinner. She couldn't give in just yet, though. This piece of information was too huge to just spring on her husband._

"_It was work, Brooke. What's going on?"_

"_Nothing!"_ _Brooke exclaims as she opens the bottle of red wine and pours Julian a glass. She reaches for the other bottle, her non-alcoholic beverage for the evening and that's when it begins to click for Julian._

"_Are you not having wine? You always drink wine. Is that cider? Holy…"_

"_Holy, what?"_ _Brooke asks, smiling._

"_You're pregnant."_

_Brooke nods, still smiling. "Is this okay? I know we just got married and everything, but…"_

_Before Brooke can finish her thought, Julian springs to his feet and makes his way over to Brooke's side of the table. She stands up to meet him and he hugs her tightly._

"_Shut up, Brooke…you're pregnant! We're going to have a baby. It's more than okay."_

"_Good, good. G-d, I can't believe this. I'm pregnant!"_

Liam's hair is a dark brown, his eyes a hazel unlike either of his parents and when Brooke holds him in her arms, she feels nothing but calm. All of the intense anxiety surrounding her son's health is washed away by his soft skin, the gurgling sound he makes, and how he stares at Brooke and smiles. She can't get enough of him and when she looks up at Julian, she smiles wider than she has in weeks. He takes note of that and smiles back at her as he plays with his son's foot. The infant's toes fan out and the couple knows, after diligent research since Liam was born, that this means his reflexes are well-developed.

Brooke never thought that being a mother would involve such an array of emotion. The fear that struck her when she first found out she was pregnant. That fear quickly turned to joy after realizing her dreams of becoming a mother were finally becoming more real. The anticipation felt throughout her pregnancy turned into panic when complications arose and Liam was born prematurely. Now as she holds him, he's three months old and she can feel that he's not the horrifically small creature he was on August 15th. She can feel his heart beating and she can feel his weight and she relaxes.

"Hey Liam-baby", Brooke coos to the infant. "You're getting so big! Daddy says not to worry, that you're healthy but Mama's still nervous as Mama will be for the rest of your life."

"You can count on that", Julian says.

Brooke leans over to slap Julian with her free hand and she smiles, "Hey! I think I'm allowed. G-d, Julian…isn't he beautiful?"

Julian nods. "He looks a lot like you."

"Thank you", Brooke replies quietly, still enraptured in the presence of her child. Liam wiggles in her arms and swings his hand up in the air. Brooke catches it with her larger hand and holds it gently, afraid to let go. He begins to fuss and Brooke can feel herself start to get nervous.

The nurse who had been adjusting equipment at Liam's incubator turns to the couple and offers the new parents a sympathetic smile. "How about you hold him up to your shoulder so his heart can be close to yours?" she suggests to the mother.

Brooke wordlessly takes in what the nurse says and adjusts Liam so she can hold him as the woman suggested. Liam rests his head on Brooke's shoulder and calms down. Brooke rubs lazy circles around his back as she rocks back and forth in the rocking chair.

"This is amazing", Brooke says. The sound of Liam's steady breathing as he begins falling asleep is enough to make the young mother begin to cry. Soft, silent tears escape her eyes and cloud her vision. She blinks the tears away quickly and continues rubbing her son's back.

"Are you okay, B?" Julian asks.

Brooke clears her throat quietly as to not disturb her son. "Yeah, I'm fine", she replies. "I just can't believe he's here, and he's okay and he's coming home soon."

The couple is silent as they simply relish in the quiet joy of sitting in that room and taking in their son. Julian leans over and rubs his wife's back just as she is doing to their son.

"You're amazing", Julian says. "Our son is a fighter because you gave him strength."

--xx--

_It is late at night, the house is dark, the air conditioner is blasting and Brooke has not gotten up from the bathroom floor in two hours. _

_The bathroom lights up as the headlights from Julian's car beam into the room. Brooke pauses from heaving to say a silent prayer, thanking whatever god that's out there for her husband's return._

"_Brooke!!!" Julian yells as he enters the house. Brooke doesn't have enough strength to reply, but soon Julian's footsteps are heard coming up the stairs and closer to the room where Brooke is kneeling in front of the toilet, clad in nothing but a sports bra and Soffee shorts, her round stomach glaringly obvious._

_When Julian enters the room, his heart quickly falls into his stomach and he crouches on the floor next to his wife. "How long have you been throwing up, B?"_

"_Um…two hours._ _I was throwing up this morning, too…" Brooke replies. Her voice is so quiet, Julian has to strain to hear her response. Brooke coughs into the porcelain bowl but nothing escapes her body. She's been throwing up bile and stomach acid for the past half hour, having had nothing of substance to eat all day._

"_Can I help you stand up? Are you feeling okay enough to stand?" the man asks._

_Brooke nods slowly. Julian takes her arms and lifts her gently to a standing position. Once standing, Brooke rests her head on Julian's shoulder and rubs wide circles on her belly._

_It's not even a minute later, they're not even out of the bathroom yet, when Brooke's vision begins to blur. Her knees buckle slightly and she drops her hand from her stomach. "Julian…" she cries._

"_Brooke, what's going on?"_

"_Something's wrong…"_

"Sometimes I felt like we'd never get here. You and me and Liam", Brooke says. "I thought Liam being sick would kill me…" She begins to cry so she strokes her son's cheek to try to bring about comfort.

"But we're here now and we're all getting better every day. Look at Liam. The doctors say he's gaining strength every day. And you're gaining strength, too. You just need to convince yourself that Liam is okay now. He's out of the woods and he's going to grow into the greatest Mathlete there ever was."

Brooke laughs loudly and the vibration of her chest wakes up little Liam who then begins to cry. "Oh, Liam…I'm sorry. Your daddy was just being a doofus. You'll have to get used to having crazy parents." She smiles at Julian and takes a calming breath. Her son finds his mother's shoulder again and settles down to sleep.

The close contact between mother and child is making Brooke feel almost spiritual. She's never been one who believed in the traditional G-d. Even when her son was fighting for his life, she couldn't go into the hospital's chapel like Julian often would. The first time she held Liam, seven weeks after his birth, Brooke felt this surge of emotion and this strange calm within herself that she could only recognize as peace.

Since August 15th at 12:48 in the morning, Brooke has felt her life take dangerous turns but at the same time, she's learning how to hope.

--xx--

Christmas Eve in the Davis-Baker household is proving to be a quiet celebration. A celebration of love and survival and life.

Brooke and Julian had brought Liam home from the hospital mere days before Thanksgiving, giving everyone who knew the family a perfect reason to celebrate and be thankful. Liam has flourished since his premature birth and continues to get better every day. He's nearing eight pounds now, with each ounce gained a reason to rejoice.

Every breath he takes, every smile that escapes his lips, every sigh and every gurgle is a reason to rejoice.

Christmas Eve flies by for the little family. Haley and Nathan had come by with Jamie, a boy of seven years old now- still as blond and energetic as ever. Lucas and Peyton had also stopped by quickly, on the way to spend the holiday with Peyton's father. Their daughter Elizabeth is almost a year and a half old. Sam had come home early from college on her winter break much to the delight of her foster parents. Spending the holiday with their closest friends and family has left Brooke and Julian feeling calm and hopeful. Julian noticed that Brooke smiled more tonight than she had in the past four months. Brooke could hardly let go of Liam all evening, much like she could hardly let go of him since his arrival home four weeks ago.

By now, both Scott families have left for the evening and Brooke has retired to her and Julian's bedroom. Since she can't be away from her son for even a few hours, she and Julian had set up Liam's bassinet in their bedroom. A rocking chair sits in the corner of the room, a place that Brooke spends many of her nights, simply staring at her son or singing to him as he falls asleep.

"Oh, baby boy…" Brooke whispers to the infant lying comfortably in her arms as she sits on her bed. He stares back at her with wide hazel-green eyes and it's too easy to get lost in them.

Brooke always marvels at the fact that Liam is this exceptional mix of her and Julian. Her son has her dimples and green eyes, but Julian's light brown hair. The origin of its curls is a mystery, though. And Brooke knows that Liam's gummy smile is going to soon become his father's notorious grin.

"You're going to be a heartbreaker one day, you know", Brooke continues. "With my dimples and your daddy's grin, we'll be beating the girls away with a stick." The mother chuckles and Liam giggles in response. "Ugh, I just want to eat you up, Liam! You make Mama so, so happy, you know that?"

Brooke strokes Liam's cheeks with her free hand, taking in his soft skin, full cheeks, and the baby powder scent that seeps out of him. She's realizing now that with each passing day, Liam is growing into a normally developing, happy baby. Each day as Liam discovers something new, Brooke discovers something new about herself. The stress of having a very premature infant had taken over Brooke's life before, but now with Liam home and the family adjusting to their lives, Brooke is finally feeling like a mother and it makes her terrified and overjoyed at the same time.

"Okay…you should totally be falling asleep now. Why are you awake?" Brooke whispers to the infant. "You're such a silly boy. No, really- let's try to fall asleep now, okay, buddy?"

The young mother cautiously stands up from her spot on the bed and turns off the overhead light, just the flicker of the bedside lamp creating the only light in the room. She walks to the rocking chair and settles herself down, beginning to lightly rock back and forth, back and forth as Liam's eyes flutter softly. Brooke always chuckles as she watches her son try to ward off sleep every night. His eyes would start to close and then dart back open again.

The more she slowly rocks, the more Liam begins to fall asleep. Singing her son a lullaby every night has become a sort of tradition for Brooke. Sometimes Julian would be in the room, sometimes she'd find him hovering in the doorway, and sometimes it was just her and her son, breathing in the same air, feeling the same warm comfort. Their relationship is reciprocal, hers and Liam's. She makes him feel safe. He makes her feel safe.

"_Go to sleep, sleepyhead…moonbeams dance in your bed…_"


End file.
